Too Much?
by AtomicCommander
Summary: Jazz and Bumblebee have a plot to cheer up Sam after his break up with Mikaela, but there are some... unusual consequences. One-shot. Warning for sheer cheekiness ;).


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After living at the Autobot's base for three months, Sam thought he had seen everything. He was wrong. Right now, for example, he was speechless as he stared at what used to be his guardian. Bumblebee was covered from head to toe in red glitter and snake-like ribbons covering his arms. Hundreds of balloons were spread across the ceiling so that none of the silver wallpaper was exposed and what could only be described as a giant, robot shaped pile of glitter was looking at Sam with the same optics as a familiar yellow Autobot.

"What the...?" Sam finally regained some semblance to speech as he surveyed the scene.

"Too much?" Bumblebee asked in a falsely innocent tone.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "And what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Um... er... it was Jazz's idea," Bumblebee pointed to another mound in the far corner.

Sam couldn't stop the torrent of laughter that escaped his lips. Optimus was going to_kill_them.

_Two Hours Ago_

"Come on. Come on. Get up, man," Robert Epps said as he shook Sam's shoulder.

Sam groaned loudly. He didn't want to get up. He never wanted to get up. Ever. Not since yesterday.

Why did Mikaela have to break up with him? After all they'd been through, she had dumped him via text message. How lame was that? Technically, they had never been together in the first place, but that didn't mean he had no feelings for her. Last night had been horrible enough without Captain Lennox's idea of comfort: "She's just a girl, Sam, you'll get over it." Epps had been worse: "Ah, ha! I knew it wouldn't work out. Fig owes me 20 bucks!" In fact, only Bumblebee had offered any_real_comfort. After all, he had been mercilessly tortured by Sector 7 for hours on end, waiting for death. He knew what it felt like to be alone.

"Come on, Sam. Mess room closes in half an hour. Starving yourself won't make you feel any better."

Sam glared at the technician, but had to admit he had a point. Whining never helped anyone. Epps smiled as Sam sat up.

"That's better. Now put these on," He threw Sam a pair of blue jeans and a brown T-shirt. "And hurry up, Bumblebee nearly broke your door down trying to get to you," Epps lips twitched slightly at the thought. "You need to talk to him. He's worried sick." He stood up and left without another word.

Sam pulled on the clothing and made his way to the rec room. He didn't feel hungry. Bumblebee and Jazz were in there, sitting on specially designed sofas and talking in low voices.

"Oh, Sam! How are you?" Bumblebee asked in a concerned tone as Sam joined them.

"Terrible, but I'll get over it," Sam said with a shrug.

"That's the spirit!" Jazz said cheerfully. Sam smiled at his enthusiasm.

"I'm glad to hear it," Bumblebee chuckled as he picked him up. Sam was picked up by the Autobots so frequently that it no longer bothered him. It was the easiest way for them to speak comfortably. Jazz quickly hid something behind his back when he realized Sam was trying to see it.

"What was that?" Sam asked, curious at the suspicious behavior.

"What was what?" Jazz responded without looking at him.

"That piece of paper."

"What piece of paper?"

"The one behind your back!"

"There's nothing behind my back."

"Yes, there is!"

"No, there isn't," Jazz said simply, never losing his calm demeanor throughout the exchange. Sam, however, was getting seriously annoyed.

"Yes, there is!" Sam repeated, nearly shouting.

"What I deem proper for public scrutiny is the sole concern of myself and person or persons involved in the originally decided course of preliminary action." Jazz winked with a cheeky grin.

Sam shot Bumblebee a pleading look.

"He means it's none of your business" Bumblebee supplied helpfully.

"Aw. You take the fun out of everything." Jazz chided as he punched Bumblebee in the shoulder. Bumblebee's optics took on a challenging glint as he replaced Sam on the sofa. He sighed when the two Autobots saw fit to instate a sparring match. Sam quickly left for his room. It's going to be a long day.

…...

Sam was confused when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Who was calling him? Not Mikaela, but she was the only person with his number. He pulled it out and looked at the screen._Unknown number._Typical.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Sam," Came a familiar voice.

"Bee, is that you?"

"Yes."

"How did you get this number?" Sam asked incredulously

"I can wirelessly connect my comm. link to your phone via satellite network," Bumblebee said matter-of-factly.

"You hacked my phone?" Sam asked weakly.

"You could put it that way," Bumblebee chuckled with a smirk in his voice.

"Right... anyway, why are you calling me? My room is little over 20 feet away, you could have walked right in and talked to me.."

"Er, right, about that..."

Jazz's voice replaced Bumblebee's. "We're in the med bay. There has been a... situation, and we need your help."

Sam sighed. "What did you break this time?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that, it's... well, you had better come and see for yourself."

"Fine. I'll be there in a minute." Sam groaned.

"Good, now before you get here you should know, it was all Bumblebee's idea," The smirk was audible in his voice.

"What?! No, it wasn't! You little liar! It was _so _your idea!" Bumblebee shouted indignantly.

"Ha! If it was my idea, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Sam hung up before Bumblebee could retort. Bickering matches between the two have been known to last for hours.

…...

Sam slowly walked through the base toward the med bay. He was hoping to delay the moment of when he would find the destruction Bumblebee and Jazz had unleashed. But he could only walk for so long and before he knew it, the door was in front of him. He took a deep breath, grabbed the handle, and turned.

_Present_

Sam wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes as Bumblebee shook most, but not all, of the glitter off.

"Sam, this isn't funny," Jazz said, though it was obvious he was fighting a smile.

"Well, it is a little funny," Bumblebee said with a smile. "We look ridiculous!"

"Speak for yourself. I still think I'm better looking."

"You wish! I'm _way _better looking than you are."

"What do you think- Sam-" Jazz's optics widened in an expression of pure horror at something behind Sam. Bumblebee followed his gaze and spluttered in terror. Sam spun round. Ratchet leaned casually on the door frame, slowly polishing his wrench.

"What happens next is up to you," Ratchet warned in a low growl.

"Run for it?" Jazz whispered.

"Run for it." Bumblebee nodded.


End file.
